


A Dog and His Master

by sydnisan



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder, Psychological Torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydnisan/pseuds/sydnisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reek, beaten and broken, waits eagerly for the day that death will rescue him from this living hell, but one night something changes. He finds something that just might make him want to stay alive, and that something comes from a very unlikely source</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Reek felt dizzy, though whether it was from pain or starvation he could not tell. All of his moods and feelings seemed to simply blur into one, as of late. What was hunger to him? What was exhaustion to him? None of it made a difference anymore. Reek was Ramsay's now, and he knew that he must do only what Lord Ramsay wanted, that he must think only thoughts that Lord Ramsay would approve of. Not that anything was good enough for the bastard. No matter how hard Reek tried to please his master, he always ended up with yet another missing finger and the agonising pain that it left behind.

No, he thought, I mustn't think such things. He'll know, somehow, he always knows. Reek tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths, watching the rise and fall of the dogs' chests as they slept. He curled up closer to one of the bitches, desperate for the warmth it offered.

The only reason Ramsay punished him was because Reek was bad. Ramsay was fair; Ramsay was just. If Reek could only stop offending him, he would be treated well, not as if he was a man, obviously, but well for a pet. Ramsay's pet, his creature. Be good, he told himself, be Reek. He had to show his lord that he was loyal, and he had to find a way to prove his earnest fealty.

One of the dogs stirred, its slick nose nuzzling against Reek's bony neck. It was so cold down here with chilly draughts blowing in from all directions and abnormally sized rats chattering sinisterly as they scurried to and fro. The dark, too, was unbearable. Always, it seemed to press in on him, getting closer and closer, as if it wanted to squeeze the life out of him. It didn't want to take his life though, he thought with a shudder. It wanted to take his mind, his identity, and leave him with nothing. "I'm Reek," he whispered shakily. "Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek."

Reek shivered violently. The darkness wasn't even the worst part about the Dreadfort kennels - it was the loneliness. Down here, Reek had nobody but the hounds to keep him company. At least when he was with Ramsay he could hear the comforting sound of another human voice. With Ramsay, he was safe from the cold and the darkness and the solitude.

He wanted Ramsay there with him, he realised, shocked. He wanted his master to protect him from the vast, cruel nothingness that threatened to devour him. Pressing closer to the dogs, he tried to feel safe and loved, but it was no use. He needed the warmth of another human to soothe him, and that of a dog was a poor substitute at best.

Reek gave a low wail and began to softly cry. This was a new emotion, one that did not seem to fade away as the hunger and weariness always did. It was confusion. Is that what I'm feeling? Confusion? He shivered anew as sobs racked through his frail body. "Make it stop."

It wasn't until much later that sleep finally reached Reek. As he dreamt, the stony interior of the Dreadfort gradually transformed into a windswept beach, littered with sea-smoothed stones and populated by small crabs. On the horizon, Reek spied majestic ships sailing away, full of brave Ironborn men, no doubt. He was home...

"Theon!" a joyful female voice cried, seemingly miles away. Theon, my name. He spun around to see who was calling him and came face to face with Asha. She enveloped him in a hug before he could react. "It's good to have you back, Theon."

"Wait, no!" he exclaimed as a sudden fear attacked him. "You can't call me Theon." He started to slowly back away from his sister, salt water lapping at his feet like the rough lick of a dog's tongue.

There was a strange expression on her face, one that he hadn't seen in what seemed like a lifetime. Pity. Asha pitied him. He used to resent it when people pitied him. He thought he was too good for their sympathy - he had been a fool.

Asha held her hand out to him encouragingly, yet there was resignation on her normally sharp features. "Come with me." As he continued to retreat, she lowered her hand and made one last effort. "Theon, please."

"My name is Reek." He looked down, not wanting to meet the disappointed gaze of his sister. "Reek, Reek, it rhymes with bleak." When he finally looked up, Asha was gone, along with the ships. In her place, Ramsay Bolton stood upright with a smirk. He started to approach Reek, his confident strides making Reek want to run and hide.

"It's time to go, Reek." His words were soft and smooth as velvet, but his eyes flashed with manic glee. Was Reek's lord happy with him? Or was the look of elation due to the impending pain that he was about to inflict?

He licked his lips. "Now." Ramsay clapped a hand down on Reek's gaunt shoulder.

Reek awoke from his dream with a jolt. Light footsteps could be heard echoing on the stairs leading to the kennels. Somebody was coming. Instinctively, Reek shrunk back against the wall and curled into a protective ball. He peered at the doorway and watched, almost fascinated, as Ramsay strode towards him.

"Reek," he called in a mocking, sing-song voice. He was clad all in black today, a rich cloak draped around his well-shaped frame. Stopping by the rusted bars of the cage, he looked down with satisfaction at the broken man before him, his eyes glittering. "I have need of you."

Reek scooted slightly closer. "Of me?"

"Yes, Reek. You." He ran his index finger lightly along on of the bars. The action seemed tantalising. "You see, I'm going on a hunt today and I need someone to carry my things," he explained, the intonation of his voice rising slightly at the end.

Reek nodded seriously and waited with caution to see what Ramsay would do next. It was always impossible to predict what he would do next, and Reek could only pray that he was in a merciful mood. It was strange, but he wanted to please Ramsay, and not just for the simple reason of avoiding torture. He wished to bask in the approval of his master and submit to his will.

"Do you love me, Reek?" Ramsay suddenly asked. He fingered his sheathed knife and momentarily widened his grey eyes with an authoritative half-smile. This was his favourite question to ask lately. Almost everyday now, he asked, and if the answer wasn't convincing enough... Reek didn't want to think about it.

He averted his eyes and opened his mouth to answer, but he was unable to get the words out. He had said it so many times before; he had perfected the saying so that Ramsay was hardly ever dissatisfied. Blood rushed to his cheeks and bashfully, he murmured, "yes, M'lord." Even as he said it, Reek knew that "yes" was not enough to appease him. He scrunched his eyes shut as a tight knot formed in his starved stomach. Any minute, his skin, sallow and scratched, would come into contact with the hard metal of Ramsay's knife. Instead, there was silence. Reek opened his eyes with apprehension.

With what could only be described as interest, Ramsay was staring at him. No sadistic smile lit up his features, no inhumane anger hid behind a calm exterior. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes firmly fixed on Reek. Wordlessly, he unlocked the cage.

Finally, he spoke. "You really do, don't you?"

Reek nodded quickly. "Of course, M'lord! You are good and kind to me, how could I not?" He gabbled on, desperate to make up for his stupid mistake. If he could just talk enough, perhaps he would be forgiven. "I love you, I promise!"

To Reek's misfortune, it seemed to have the opposite effect. The more Reek prattled on and on, the more enraged Ramsay seemed to grow. In a fit of fury, Ramsay whipped out his knife and held it to Reek's throat, his other hand clutching madly at his pet's wispy hair.

"Be quiet!" he yelled from behind clenched teeth. He glared, his breathing heavy, whilst Reek whined and wailed. "Be quiet or I'll hunt you today instead. How would you like that? Hm?" He punched Reek in the face with his full force.

Though face felt like it was on fire, Reek said nothing for fear of Ramsay's wrath. There were worse things than a bruised face. He moved towards Ramsay uncertainly. It made no sense to him, yet he felt an intense need to be near his master. Why should I want to be close to the very man who wants to hurt me?

When Reek dared to look at Ramsay, most of the anger seemed to have drained from his face. All his expression offered now was reproach. "Follow me. We're going hunting."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek experiences his first hunt with Ramsay

"Hurry, Reek!" Ramsay called. His voice wasn't angry at present, but Reek knew how quickly that could change. One wrong move would spoil everything. Clutching madly at his bow and arrow, Reek scrambled through the forest, tripping multiple times on gnarled tree roots and wiry weeds. The wind whistled past him as he raced to catch up with Ramsay, who had hurtled ahead in search of his prey.

It was a girl, as usual, but Reek had noticed that she was exceptionally beautiful. She was young, too, no more than fifteen. Reek bit his dehydrated bottom lip as he ran, a futile way of trying to stop himself sympathising with the girl. People died all the time; it was a fact of life. Besides, this girl would receive a merciful death, judging by the good sport she was giving Ramsay. A quick glance at the bloodlust in his eyes and his flushed cheeks told Reek that his judgement was correct. The girl should be thankful of her lord's generosity, just as Reek was.

Having caught up reasonably with Ramsay, Reek slowed his pace a little to try and regain his breath. He watched as the hounds tried to sniff out where the girl was hiding, and a part of him wished that she would escape. Someone deserved to go live out a happy life.

Quickly, Reek realised what he was thinking, and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't think like that. Ever. His lord's happiness was the important thing, not this simple servant's well-being. What Reek wanted hardly came into the question. I am lower than a dog, he reminded himself. I am Reek, and I am a freak. Reek. Freak.

Once he was sufficiently calm, he rushed to the side of his master, who had finally caught the afternoon's prey. She cowered in a hollowed out tree stump, the full weight of her predicament becoming evident, as her eyes darted to the sides. No doubt she was trying to figure out a way to escape. If she was clever, she would understand it was futile at this point. Her slender fingers scrabbled at the rough charred bark of the tree, whilst she edged as far back as she could, ready to leap out and run.

"Well, well, well. It seems, Reek, that we have found my troublesome prisoner," mused Ramsay tauntingly, never once breaking eye contact with the girl. He stood for a moment to appraise her. Reek saw the way his eyes hungrily traced her curvy body. Ramsay was just waiting to devour her. A small echo of sympathy began to bloom in Reek's miserable heart, but he quickly squished it down. What would Ramsay think if he knew of Reek's misplaced empathy? What would he do? Reek's breathing became heavier as he thought about how Ramsay had cared for him, tried so patiently to teach him to be a good pet, and how all that kindness had been wasted on Reek.

"Please, please don't hurt me!" squealed the girl, tears running down her face and snot dripped unattractively from her button nose. "I will do whatever you wish! I swear it! I will be your whore, just don't hurt me!" She was blubbering incoherently now. Her words ran into one as she became a sobbing mess.

Ramsay faked confusion. "Why would I want you to be my whore when I could just take you now?" His face hardened. "I can, you know." He sprung forward suddenly and yanked her from the hollowed stump, laughing. This seemed to alert the dogs because they became incensed and barked furiously.

"Please!"

Be good, Reek willed the girl. He knew that she could not hear him, but all the same he tried. Submit to him and he will kill you quickly. You provided him with sport, now provide him with the rest and you will be rewarded.

The girl was stupid, Reek thought. She did not understand.

Ramsay lifted a finger to her youthful face and began to caress it. His touch looked gentle to Reek, though the girl whimpered and struggled. What would it be like, Reek wondered, if Ramsay did that to him. He imagined what it would be like to feel Ramsay pressed against him, their bodies moving as one. Almost unknowingly, he hunched his shoulders and hugged his waist. It was a poor way of mimicking the comfort of his lord's strong arms, but it was all he could do. In a strange, twisted way, Reek felt jealous of the girl before him, who was receiving all of Ramsay's attention yet appreciating none of it. This girl could not please Ramsay as he could. She didn't know what he liked and what he didn't. She was undeserving.

The woods seemed strangely silent in comparison to the horror that Reek was witnessing. The birds seemed to have abandoned the forest, this forest that held the ghosts of so many departed souls. How many times had Ramsay hunted here? How many women had been subject to Ramsay's pleasure?

"Reek!" Ramsay beckoned after a while, looking impatiently in the direction of his creature. "Hand me my knife." This elicited a terrified scream from the broken girl beneath Ramsay. Her mud stained dressed was hitched up to her thighs, which were already beginning to show purple bruises.

Reek did as he was bid with haste, eager to show his master how useful he was. When Ramsay was handed the knife, he suddenly turned to Reek. "I've had an idea!" The twinkle in his eyes meant trouble, trouble involving Reek.

Instinctively, Reek took a step backwards. For just a second, Ramsay's face contorted in anger at this, but only for a second. He soon regained his composure and continued, "Take the knife, Reek. You're going to carve me a nice little strip of flesh." His toothy smile only widened when he saw Reek's horrified expression. "What is it, Reek? Do you not want to please your master?"

Reek's breathing began to speed up and tears sprung unbidden from his eyes. "Of course I wish to please you, M'lord. I live to serve you."

This seemed to appease Ramsay. "Don't worry, I'll give you a bit of... help."

Reek clutched the weapon in his shaking hand. Already he felt filthy, more filthy than when he was in the dungeons, covered in blood, sweat, and nightsoil. That knife promised such pain. He shuddered to think of the agony that would course through this girl's body like a roaring fire, blinding her and driving her to the point of insanity. How could he do to her what had been done to him? If only she hadn't been so disobedient, then neither of them would have to suffer.

Something brushed over Reek's scraped fingers, and slowly, Ramsay placed his firm hands over Reek's, helping him to hold the knife steady. Reek looked around uncertainly, and he saw Ramsay looking at him encouragingly. He wants me to do this, Reek thought. Steeling himself for what was to come, Reek bent down, grateful for the support of his master, and began his grisly task.

It was a horrible task, something that would haunt Reek for the rest of his days, but feeling Ramsay's skin against his own in such a reassuring sense brought him such a sense of security that it became bearable. For the first time, he understood that Ramsay was the one thing he had left in this world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek is finally offered the chance to prove his love

That night, after Reek had been returned to the kennels, his fear addled mind was plagued by the screams of the girl that he had tortured. She had been so beautiful, with rosy cheeks and budding breasts, until her skin had... How could he have done that? He knew what it was like to be hurt to a point beyond pain, beyond even anguish, and yet he had inflicted that on a young girl. Reek despised himself.

Then again, Ramsay had seemed happy with him afterwards. His work had pleased Ramsay, and surely that was what mattered most. Ramsay had even helped him, guiding his hand and giving words of sadistic encouragement every now and again. Surely that was a good thing. He thought back with fond remembrance to how Ramsay's hands had felt on his own. Those hands, which so often served only to punish Reek, had been gentle and assuring.

His happy thoughts could only remain for so long in a place like the Dreadfort, and it wasn't long until the screams swarming in Reek's mind drowned out the thoughts of Ramsay. Dreaming of the girl who had been alive and well just hours ago, he drifted off into a state of fitful sleep.

Late in the night, he was roughly awoken by a man with tired eyes and drab garb. The man rattled the bars to grab Reek's attention before swinging open the door and yanking him out by his sallow arm. "Your presence has been requested," the man sneered.

Reek wondered why Ramsay would send for him so late. Was he in trouble? He had assumed that the hunt had relieved Ramsay's anger; certainly, he had seemed content when they flayed the girl. Perhaps he had simply misinterpreted his manic delight. Stupid, stupid Reek, he reprimanded himself. He should have been more careful, should have said kinder words. No matter how hard he tried, he could think of nothing else as he made his way up to Ramsay's chambers. Those stupid words he had said that morning had caused such outrage, why had he said them? Guilt gnawed at him like one of the rats that occupied the Dreadfort kennels.

"Ah, Reek," Ramsay said as the man shoved Reek to the floor and stomped away, taking an unusual amount of care to close the door behind him. "You were very bad this morning, pet, before the hunt. What shall we do about that?"

Icy panic seized Reek's insides with its unforgiving talons, more dangerous than any flaying knife. "I'm sorry, M'lord, I didn't mean to! I was so stupid! I was a fool!" The words poured from his mouth on cue, and he hoped that even one of them would have the desired effect.

"Yes, yes, Reek," he said in slight exasperation, a warning for his creature to be quiet. It was only then that Reek dared to take his focus from the floor. He saw that Ramsay was sitting in his fine four poster bed, which was adorned with lush furs and silken quilts, but Ramsay himself was considerably less dressed up. Whilst he wore a pair of pink breeches, his upper half was completely bare. Reek could see every detail of his body in the glow of the candlelight. For a moment, he gazed in awe, before looking away in shame. If Ramsay caught him thinking such dirty things...

"Let's play a game." Even the mention of a game made Reek's breathing more frantic. Ramsay loved his games, yet they always seemed to end in another missing body part for Reek. The so-called games were riddled with tricks and traps, false friends and hidden loopholes.

Ramsay continued, "I want you to tell me if you love me. Give me a good answer and you shall be given a reward; give me a bad answer and I will take an ear." Ramsay twirled a letter opener in his hand, the deft movements making it seem almost as threatening as a razor sharp dagger. "Do you love me, Reek?" His mouth was open in an expectant smile, his eyebrows raised.

Reek thought about the answer he would give. The flattery had always worked in the past, but today it had put Ramsay in one of the foulest moods Reek had ever seen. He began to cry, tears falling unbidden down his cheeks. No, think, he reminded himself. The thought of losing his ear sickened him.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. The simple answer, the one that Reek had originally given, that was the one that Ramsay had wanted because it had been real. "I... I do." And as he said it, Reek knew that it was true. His master gave his life purpose and meaning; his master cared for him; his master kept him safe. Yes, Ramsay was all he had.

The corners of Ramsay's mouth crept upwards and his eyes grew large. Reek couldn't tell if this was good or bad, but he crawled forwards all the same. Without quite understanding the gravity of what he was doing, Reek reached out with little hesitation to touch Ramsay's leg, which was dangling over the side of the bed. Then, remembering the consequences and how furious Ramsay would be, he snapped his mangled hand back as if the leg were on fire.

"Go on." Ramsay, to Reek's amazement, slid down so that he was standing in front of him. Reek pressed himself against his master's leg and wrapped his arms around him with immense caution. It felt so comforting to be this close to Ramsay. He could feel the heat of his body, the shape of his calf, and when Ramsay patted his head, Reek shivered with gratitude and softly nuzzled him.

"I want you to prove your love," Ramsay announced suddenly.

The abrupt statement made Reek jump back, but after realising that all was safe for the moment, he crept forwards and resumed his position. "But how, M'lord?"

"Pleasure me." The look on his master's face was like nothing the creature had seen before. Such dominance, such crazed power... Involuntarily, Reek let out a lustful sigh and felt a faint arousal in the empty space between his legs.

With great caution, he inched his fingers, still bloody from the day's hunt, towards Ramsay's clothed crotch. Heart pummelling at his cracked ribcage, adrenaline coursing through his veins, Reek unlaced the breeches and gasped when he set his eyes upon Ramsay's cock.

Roughly grabbing the back of Reek's head, Ramsay pulled him closer. "Now."

Reek's mind raced as he slowly took his lover into his mouth. How would he please him? He was just a lowly pet, no better than the beasts that writhed in the dirt; he was not worthy of pleasuring Ramsay. He tried desperately to remember all the tricks that his whores had used on him when he was called...

Thankfully, he did not have to continue with his dangerous thoughts, for at that moment he recalled a particularly voluptuous whore that he had enjoyed in his younger days. Her name had been Mara, he believed. The things she had done with her devilish tongue!

He moaned quietly, flicking and swirling his tongue over the length of Ramsay's member.

Ramsay gave a guttural growl as he gripped his pet's head and thrust erratically, clutching his white hair, scratching at the back of his neck. "You belong to me!" he half-sighed through gritted teeth.

Reek whimpered whilst Ramsay's cock filled his eager mouth. His eyes were trained on Ramsay, whose head was thrown back in pleasure. "Fuck!" cried Ramsay as he came with a carnal moan. The warm seed filled Reek's eager mouth, and he swallowed hungrily, yet some escaped and spilled to the hard stone floor.

"Reek, it's disrespectful to reject your master's seed." Ramsay rebuked, eyes heavy with lust. He watched, partly amused and partly aroused, as Reek broke into a panic. The freakish creature brought his arms up to his chest protectively, as if he were expecting a punch or a kick. Ramsay let his pet get a bit more worked up before taking on a soothing voice and extending his hand to stroke Reek's sunken cheek. "Shhhh, I'm not going to hurt you." Not yet, he added mentally. Later, perhaps, he would have another sort of fun with his Reek, but for now he was more than content with fucking. "I want you to clean up what you have spilled, that is all."

Gradually, Reek stopped shaking and looked questioningly at Ramsay to check he had understood, and when he received a nod, Reek dropped to the floor and lapped at the semen on the floor.

"Good dog," Ramsay praised, whilst he watched Reek clean, absent-mindedly rubbing his cock.

When the floor was finally clean, Ramsay patted the bed beside him, and Reek cautiously climbed onto the soft sheets alongside his lord. "You will be sharing my bed tonight." And with that, Ramsay blew out the candles.


End file.
